


Breakdown's Amazing Frag Room Adventures

by Beanchan



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M, Orgy, Sticky Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-29
Updated: 2014-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-10 21:51:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2041524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beanchan/pseuds/Beanchan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Nemesis has a few room designated for 'relieving stress' with your fellow Decepticons.....</p>
<p>Breakdown has finally worked up the courage to visit....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breakdown's Amazing Frag Room Adventures

**Author's Note:**

> I have another fic I’m in the middle of and a bunch to work on but this thing took over my mind! Seriously, it just wrote itself in my head while I was trying to sleep *sighs*
> 
> *kinda sorta proud of herself?*
> 
> Response to one of the greatest prompts ever: http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/3587.html?thread=6083843#t6083843
> 
> Quick notes:
> 
> Units of time-  
> Breem = 8.3 minutes  
> Klik = 1.2 minutes
> 
> This was self beta-ed so if I majorly screwed something up I’m sorry

Breakdown vented yet another sigh, trying his hardest to keep calm. After all, he’d made it all the way down here this time, there was no turning back.

He could do this.

Just press the button that would open the door to the designated group interface room.

He could DO this.

Go inside, and then…then what…?

No, no, don’t think like that. He could do this.

He COULD do this…

He…

He…..

He Couldn’t do this!

Panic sat in like it always did, causing him to turn around and head back to the Stunticon’s quarters. Only this time he headed straight into a green chest plate.

“Are you going in or what?” Bonecrusher loomed over him. He didn’t loom quite as much as MotorMaster always did but still plenty intimidating. “You’ve been staring at the door for nearly a breem you know.”

Oh Primus, that meant Bonecrusher had been staring at HIM for nearly a breem. And worse, he hadn’t even noticed!

“S-sorry. I’ll get out of your way…” Breakdown moved to the side, intending to leave, the plan was a bust at this point anyway. A hand on his upper arm stopped him, not grabbing, just holding him there.

“You want to go in don’t you?” The Constructicon had actually crouched down a bit so they were at optic level. His voice was surprisingly calming.

“Well I-I…umm…”

“Yes or no?” Bonecrusher was frowning but something about the way he was looking at him had Breakdown’s core temp raising a few degrees.

He took another vent of air, calming himself the best he could. “Yes.”

“Good, let’s go then.” 

Before the Stunticon could argue Bonecrusher had swept him up in his arms, elbowing the door control and carrying him bridal-style through the entrance.

*************************

The room, like all the designated interface room on the Nemesis, had been installed with a sort of airlock double set of doors at the entrance. A con, or cons, would step through the first set of doors into a small chamber big enough for two or three of them. The doors behind them would then close and the doors in front would open, leading to the main room. Both doors could not be opened at the same time unless it’s system was overridden by the ships main emergency system or directly by command staff. This was all to keep the privacy of the room’s occupants safe. After all, that’s what the rooms where for in the first place.

The first thing that hit Breakdown when that second set of doors opened was the atmosphere. It was heavy with the smell of interfacing and comfortably warm, it felt completely different from the rest of the ship. The space itself was set up with various cushioned berths and other soft surfaces, most of which were covered in the bodies of his fellow cons. Only a few even bothered to glance up as the combiners entered the room before returning to their previous activities.

It was one of the few times in his life Breakdown ‘didn’t’ feel like everyone was staring at him.

Bonecrusher hadn’t put him down yet though.

He was just about to finally speak up with the bulldozer sat him down on an empty berth against the wall, taking a seat beside him. Bonecrusher made him comfortable, sliding back so he could lean against the wall before speaking again.

“Your first time here huh?”

Breakdown pulled his legs, dangling off the berth’s edge, together shyly, placing his hands on his knees. “That obvious?”

The Constructicon gave an affirmative grunt.

“W-what am I suppose to do now?” Breakdown didn’t look up, hoping the bulldozer’s generosity so far would allow him to give out a little advice.

“Look around at what’s going on, try to find a spot to join in. You can proposition someone too” Bonecrusher didn’t seem in a hurry to make any moves just yet himself. “Or just watch if you prefer…”

The Lamborghini finally looked up to observe the room’s participants.

On the berth against the opposite wall he could see two of the triple-changers with one of the cone-heads, the dark gray and white one, Ramjet, sandwiched between them. He wasn’t sure but it looked like the jet was taking them both at once. That seemed like it would be painful but from the way Ramjet was moaning and begging for more he must have been enjoying it.

Breakdown was pretty sure he’d heard a rumor about that one being a masochist. Guess it was true.

Somewhere off to his right on the floor was a tangle of bodies he couldn’t quite identify. Though he could make out the olive green of at least two Constructicons and a pair of distinctive bright purple eyes.

Before he could concentrate on who those eyes belonged to, a flash of yellow to his left caught Breakdown’s attention.

His own gestalt-mate Drag Strip, in all his highly polished glory, was in entwined with one of the Reflector units. They weren’t actually interfacing but they were all over each other. Lips locked together, hands roaming over every inch of frame, finding all the sensitive little seams and wires.

Breakdown’s fans finally clicked on. 

He’s been so intent on watching the display it took him a few kliks to notice another Reflector unit, the one with the lens, sitting barely a foot away from the entwined couple. He was just sitting there, legs crossed, the barest hint of a smile on his faceplates. He wasn’t alone either. One of Soundwave’s bird cassettes, the yellowish one, was beside him, head resting on the Reflector’s knee as he gently stroked the condor’s back. They were both watching the couple.

Breakdown suddenly had a horrible thought, his frame stiffening. Oh Primus, were they…

“Don’t worry, they’re not recording any of this.” Bonecrusher’s, again surprisingly calming, voice drifted next to his audio. “It’s not allowed. They just like to watch.”

“Oh..” Breakdown vented a sigh of relief this time, feeling a lot more relaxed. That was until he felt a warm hand against his thigh.

Bonecrusher was looking at him. “So…do you like having your valve licked?”

The Lamborghini just stared back for half a klik before giving a squeak of a reply. “Y-yes…I l-like it a lot.”

“Good, just relax then.” Before he could say another word the bulldozer was off the berth, kneeling in front of him. Breakdown cautiously allowed his legs to be spread as a warm mouth moved up to nuzzle his panel.

The Stunticon offlined his optics, pushing his paranoia as far down as possible before giving the command to expose his interface components .

And when he did…OH!

Maybe it was just because no one had done this to him in forever, but Bonecrusher’s mouth felt amazing. Sliding his glossa against those sensitive little nodes right at the top of his valve, making everything tingle and slowly build up to overload.

The pleasure was momentarily interrupted when he felt the berth shift with the weight of another. Breakdown online his optics to find the red cone-head, Dirge, no wait, Thrust, sitting next to him.

“You looked so cute over here,” Thrust was smiling at him softly, “I just had to come ask if I could kiss you.”

Breakdown blinked. Had he just been called ‘cute’? Strange as it was it made his spark skip a little.

He nodded, allowing Thrust to move in, cupping the side of his face as he pressed their lips together.

The jet was good kisser too, firm without being too demanding. His free hand found it’s way to the Lamborghini’s chest plate, pressing against it, maneuvering Breakdown into a laying position. The new position let Thrust deepen the kiss, running his glossa over Breakdown’s bottom lip until the lambo opened his mouth, letting their glossa slip against one another.

Bonecrusher took advantage of the new position as well. Thrusting his own glossa deeper into the Stunticon’s valve, his hands finding better access now to the sensitive seams where legs met pelvic armor.

Above him Breakdown moaned into the kiss, he was getting close now. He really didn’t know what to do with his own hands though. One was fisted into the soft covering of the berth, the other he reached up to stroke the cone on Thrust’s head. The jet seemed to enjoy that, engine rumbling.

And then Bonecrusher hit that little bundle of sensors at the front of his valve just right. 

Breakdown had to pull away from the kiss as overload hit. He’d always been loud in overload, it was embarrassing but right now he just didn’t care if the whole base heard him. He let it all out, valve clinching, little waves of pleasuring dancing over his circuits. It was one of those nice drawn out overloads too, the kind that let you all tingly, taking the edge off but leaving you ready for more if you wanted it.

He hadn’t had one of those in forever.

**Author's Note:**

> I swear I will write more...


End file.
